BCE
by slkdragon
Summary: It's been nearly a decade since the defeat of Teiaiel, and the world has known peace since then. Cloud and his friends are finally leading a life of happiness and security. Surely, something must be amiss...
1. Prologue

**October 10, 1 A.C.E.**

The wind is howling across the dry, cracked ground at blistering speed, sending long tendrils of sand soaring across the rough, uneven terrain. Despite the speed of the wind, it does little to reduce the unbearable heat of the sun blazing overhead. The mountainous terrain is harsh and unforgiving, and the heat only makes it more dangerous.

Beneath the bright red sky, a lone figure trudges across the landscape, his filthy tan cloak billowing about him. Head covered with a hood and face obscured by a mask, necessary for navigating this terrible place, he hunches over against the wind and quickly, but carefully, makes his way up the rocky mountainside.

Even through his thick, leather gloves, the rocks burn his flesh, forcing him to keep a brisk pace. But he had long ago grown accustomed to this hellish place. After all, it is now one of the few habitable parts of the planet.

Shortly, he crests the peak he's been scaling and looks out over the infamous location before him. No one from before would ever realizes that this is in fact the Northern Crater of legend. The area's ferocious blizzards have been replaced by terrible sandstorms, carving the snow-capped peaks into rough, jagged remnants of their past forms. Pulling his cloak closer, the young man makes his way down into the crater itself, eager to find shelter and a temporary reprieve.

The planet has changed much recently. Safety has long ago been cast away for many, and these days, death seems a much more inviting ordeal than struggling on to the next day. Those few who survive do so by clinging to the last shreds of hope they have: the hope that one day, everything will be fixed and life will be returned to the way it once was...


	2. Deliverance of the Package

**February 6, 4 B.C.E.**

Stretching across the brown and barren desert below, a thin black line split the area in two. The long road was rarely traveled and in good condition, with only a single moving speck upon it. Racing along the isolated road, the black bike headed towards the distant horizon, its rider tucked low against the vehicle's sleek frame. Alone on the path, the motorcycle raced unchecked and unobserved across the desert, set on reaching its destination at the earliest possible time. Despite the bike's age, it's engine was as powerful and loud as it had ever been, kept in excellent condition by its owner.

Nestled tightly against the bike, Cloud's hair flapped in the harsh wind as stray particles of sand bounced off the lens of his riding goggles. Time had been kind to him, and coupled with his discipline and training, he was more or less in the same physical state he was in years ago. The only real difference was his new left hand, finely crafted from steel and tuned to suit him. It had been hard getting used to the new feature, but he had soon grown accustomed to it and now it was as if he'd never been without it.

Once again, Cloud caught himself gazing sorrowfully at his new hand, concealed by his black glove. Forcing himself to cast his gaze upon the desert around him as he rode along, its emptiness overwhelmed him and made him eager to reach civilization.He was anxious to finish his job and return home. But it wasn't long before the lonely landscape took its toll on his mind, and Cloud couldn't help but let his mind wander back to his friends, spread out all over the world...

_Far off, in Wutai, Yuffie had moved back to live with her family and was wed to a respectable man, known throughout the country as an honorable soldier and a good citizen. Her famous enthusiasm had now shifted focus and she now eagerly anticipated the role of motherhood, which she was preparing for by leaving the WRO to take up a more normal job working at her husband's branch as a rather eccentric secretary._

_Red XIII, or Nanaki as he liked to be known, had once again vanished into the wilderness, seeking his own answers and keeping to himself. Occasionally, he and Cloud would meet on the road, but the two rarely shared many words and soon went their separate ways afterwards. Last Cloud had heard, Nanaki had spotted some interesting landmarks on the Western Continent and was pursuing rumors of other members of his species._

_Cid still worked for the WRO as their best pilot in the airship fleet, but often spoke of retiring soon. More than anything, he wanted to get back to Rocket Town and resume building ships for himself. Shera, however, wanted a certain amount of money in their bank account and perhaps children before that, so Cid was stuck where he was for a few more years, much to his chagrin._

_Barret's new oil business had started off strong, but soon began to decline shortly after. The oil wasn't working as well as Mako energy had, and as a result, most people were more interested in finding a new source of fuel instead of buying his. Regardless, he'd moved back to the city to be with Marlene, who was more than a little excited to be reunited with her adopted father. The two of them moved to a house not far from 7th Heaven and stopped by regularly._

_Vincent had vanished like only he could. Leaving no trace or words behind, he had simply disappeared. No one knew if he had ever bought a phone, but if he had, he certainly hadn't left a number with anyone, and wasn't likely to be seen or heard from again anytime soon. Perhaps he had gone back to resume his slumber._

_The Turks still worked for the WRO but had changed in other regards. Elena had suddenly vanished less than a year ago and was sorely missed by the team. Any changes in Rude were indiscernible, but Reno had clearly been affected deeply, his cheery disposition fading slightly with the vibrancy of his hair as he turned to the bars at night more for comfort than fun those days. Cloud didn't interact with them directly, but he couldn't avoid sharing eye contact with them on occasion._

_He himself still lived with Tifa and Denzel at 7th Heaven, where little had changed since the bar's initial opening. Business still wasn't great, but they managed just fine and didn't spend much money on superficial things anyway. Denzel was now sixteen and rarely around the bar, instead running around the city with his friends. _

_It seemed that after all the years of turmoil and conflict, they'd all earned some peace which they now basked in happily. All the fighting had truly been worth it._

Glancing once up at the bright blue sky, Cloud smiled to himself, remembering his other friends, whom he hadn't seen or heard from in years. Long departed from this world, he knew in his heart that on days like this, they smiled upon him from above. Even now, he could imagine their faint facades against the azure backdrop, eyes bright with warmth and kindness.

Nuzzling the throttle, he returned his attention to the road and urged the bike further on as it sped up, reminding himself that such things awaited him here on the ground. Speeding off down the long road, he left behind no trace as he disappeared into the distance...

* * *

It was almost six years after Cloud had vanquished Teiaiel, and the world had known nothing but peace since. Humanity had begun to recover immediately, as it tends to, with cities being repaired and rebuilt at a rapid pace. The world of men was not the only one being restored, however.

Much of ShinRa's damage already undone, the world was slowly but surely healing itself. Plants began growing where they hadn't been seen in years, animal populations slowly began to expand through out the land and ecosystems began to reestablish themselves. It seemed as if the world had finally been returned to a state of balance after the dreadful wounds caused by Jenova's presence and man's disrespect for its well being. The Lifestream was finally returning the world to its former glory, now that man had learned to care for its only home.

Everyone had learned from the past of their world's importance, and humanity as a whole was weary from the excessive violence of years ago. For now, the world was finally quiet and still. Everyone was able to go about their lives without fear or dire concern. For the people of the world, this brought hope and happiness. Happiness from the soothing peace that many had never known, and hope that it was to last forever...

_**BCE**_


	3. The Furtive Dark Suit

**February 19, 4 B.C.E.**

Everyone in the room turned towards the doors as they swung open with a plaintive squeal, allowing light to penetrate into the dark confines of the seedy pub. As the doors slowly swayed back into place, the dark figures outlined by the brilliant sunlight came into focus.

White shirts, black suits, and an air of superiority: the bar's denizens knew who it was amongst them and quickly turned back to their drinks. They didn't really hold much respect for the Turks, but knew they were in for a lengthy headache if they made trouble with them.

The two men surveyed the bar silently from where they stood. The taller one, bald and sporting black leather gloves, adjusted his sunglasses, trying to see into the dark building better without removing the trademark shades. Rude was no longer the young man he used to be. He didn't have time to be running all over town looking for people. More and more those days, his job was behind a desk, and having to leave the office to play hide and seek was growing tiresome.

Finally, his eyes found what they were looking for towards the end of the bar. Propped up on a stool and slumped over the bar, his target's dark jacket slowly heaved rhythmically, suggesting he was unconscious, or close to it. The thin lock of light brown hair lying across his back assured Rude that this was their man.

Motioning to his companion, Rude led as the two of them approached the slumbering form. Upon reaching him, his snores could be heard, confirming that he had passed out. Laying a hand on the man's shoulder, Rude shook his body gruffly. "Hey, wake up!"

The man blinked a few times, then lifted his head, peering up into Rude's sunglasses. "Oh, hey Rude!" Reno slurred, goggles clinking around his neck as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position. "What are you..."

Glancing to his left, he spotted Rude's companion and his lopsided grin faded as he slouched a bit. "Oh...Roin. I see." He turned back to the bar and reached for another drink...which was perched on the shelf behind the bar. Sporting the same suit he had worn his entire career, Reno hadn't changed much, still sporting his trademark goggles and trusty EMR along with his cocky grin and devil-may-care attitude. However, his brilliant red hair had faded to it's natural light brown, and was noticeably shorter than it once was and his body had begun to accumulate trace amounts of fat. Additionally, he wasn't as fast or nimble as he once was, his younger years now gone behind him.

Insulted, the man beside Rude folded his arms across his chest and scoffed as he watched Reno struggle to make the alcohol come to him through telekinesis, or so it appeared. He had wild green hair that seemed to spread out in every direction and narrow, dark blue eyes. He possessed a similar build to the one Reno once held and seemed to have a like sense of style, his jacket unbuttoned and shirt untucked. "Some partner you make," Roin said, clearly upset. "Running off to bars all hours of the day, drinking till you pass out. And you're supposed to be setting an example for me."

The bartender finally walked over and plucked the bottle from its shelf, handing it to the desperate Turk, who wasted no time twisting off the cap and taking a long swig from it. He let out a brief gasp of satisfaction as he removed the bottle from his lips and turned to the young man. "I am setting an example. I gotta pick a diffr'ent bar evr'y day, or you guys'll find me sooner, right?" He pointed the bottle at the Turk and smiled to himself. "That's the art of illusion."

"You mean evasion..." offered Rude, as he rubbed his eyes with one hand, eager to get back to the office.

"Whatever," Reno quipped, taking another drink. "Point is, I'm learning the boy something good. With my help, he could be the best." He stared at his bottle as he continued, his voice shrinking as he got lost in his inebriated thoughts. "Course, not while I'm still around, cause I'm the best, but he could be the best of the other bests who were the best of...Bestington..."

Wobbling on his stool, Reno pitched over towards the floor, but Rude caught him in time. Hefting the once again unconscious Turk over his shoulder, he stood and turned to the other Turk, who was staring at Reno with an air of distaste. "He'll get over this soon enough," he promised. "He's just going through a rough patch...We all are."

Shaking his head once, the young man turned towards the door, following Rude as they headed for the exit. "I didn't join the agency to play games with some pathetic loser who wallows in bars all day. I was promised training and good pay, and so far-"

"Hey," Rude cut in. "He's no pathetic loser. I'm telling you, he is one of our best agents. You'll see."

With a look that signaled the end of the conversation, Rude stepped out of the building and disappeared into the sunlight. "I'd better," Roin muttered before following.


End file.
